


Going Well and Truly Mad

by Telaryn



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Dominance, Dubious Consent, Dubious Ethics, Enemies, Hate Sex, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Public Sex, Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-18
Updated: 2013-04-18
Packaged: 2017-12-08 20:39:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/765787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telaryn/pseuds/Telaryn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The fact that most of their chases end up like this is starting to become a disturbing pattern.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Going Well and Truly Mad

Quentin always went a little mad in these moments; trying to grapple with a man probably twenty-five years younger than him, at _least_ twenty-five pounds lighter than him, and so much more in shape they most likely didn’t have a scale for him to measure it against.

And a killer to boot – did he forget to mention that? Which was simultaneously the reason he should have left this case to someone younger, and why he wasn’t going to be able to stop until the Hood was captured or he was dead. Most of the time he hadn’t really cared which way the worm turned, but lately…lately things between him and the vigilante had taken a shift for the truly bizarre.

Tonight he’d nearly flipped over the parapet on the roof of his own damn apartment building. The Hood had grabbed double fistfuls of his jacket at the last second, hauled him back from the edge and used their combined momentum to slam him back hard against the outer wall of the building’s mechanical penthouse. Before Quentin could recover, the vigilante pressed into him full length – leather, Kevlar, pleasantly harsh breathing, and underneath it all the unmistakable feel of a younger man’s erection sliding against his own rapidly stiffening cock.

“So predictable, Detective.” This close, the hum of the voice modulator vibrated down through his body, stirring the heat low in his belly and fanning it into a very different kind of flame. A hot, damp line was licked across his pulse point, followed by the sharp sting of teeth being set into the sensitive flesh just underneath his jawline. Strong hips rocked into him with just the right amount of friction – it was pain overlapping pleasure, an addictive, toxic swirl of need that Quentin was beginning to realize he wasn’t ever going to be strong enough to resist entirely.

That didn’t mean he had to play the victim, however. They’d had more than enough fights end up like this that he’d learned a few important things about his enemy; namely that the Hood liked it when he took control.

Liked it a _lot._

“Instead of smarting off,” he growled grabbing a fistful of hood and hair and putting his mouth close to where an ear should have been, “why don’t you get on your knees and put that mouth to some real use?” Even through the rising fog of his madness, Quentin remembered to keep the vigilante’s face turned away. He was starting to realize that he couldn’t risk seeing the face of his enemy. Not now, not after everything that had happened. Even with the DNA evidence he’d socked away after their previous encounters, he couldn’t know the truth.

Not and remain sane.

After a moment, he felt the vigilante pull free. His face still hidden in dark green leather and shadows, the Hood went gracefully to his knees. Quentin swallowed hard as his fly was opened and leather-gloved hands slipped into his briefs – pushing the fabric free and exposing his now fully erect shaft to the night air.

“Oh, that’s it,” Quentin moaned as the Hood sucked just the head into his mouth, tonguing the slit opening until Quentin couldn’t hold back another wordless sound of approval. “Knew you’d done this before.”

The Hood hummed something completely unintelligible around his mouthful, and then began working the rest of the way down Quentin’s cock – taking him inch by torturous inch. “Bastard,” Quentin sighed, bracing himself more firmly against the wall at his back. This was already on his list of top ten hottest moments of his life, and he didn’t trust himself to remain on his feet if it reached number one.

He felt the top of the Hood’s throat fluttering deliciously around the head of his cock as the vigilante reached bottom; cupping a hand at the back of his head, he held him still a moment longer than necessary. The grin that spread across his expression as he felt the Hood’s body shudder under his hand felt manic. “Oh don’t worry,” he said, releasing his grip after another moment. “Choking you out like this is something I save for my private fantasies.”

He felt the Hood’s mouth work in what he suspected was an answering grin, then the vigilante’s head began bobbing up and down as he found his rhythm. Quentin licked his lips, letting his head lean back against the wall as he ignored everything except the feel of his enemy’s lips and tongue stroking the length of his cock, his cheeks hollowing as he sucked Quentin in as deep as he could.

Quentin had never been deep-throated before, but now that he was prepared the Hood seemed determined to prove that he was capable of giving everything Quentin asked for. It didn’t take long before Quentin understood why it was such a popular pornographic fantasy – the sensations the Hood was stirring up inside him should have been illegal. “You really need to give up the vigilante kick,” he breathed, running his hands possessively over the fabric of the hood. “You’re so much better on your knees.” He was close…the chase…the wrongness of what they were doing…it had him wound up further than he was prepared to control. “I might...” He swallowed hard, as the Hood increased the pace of his sucking. “I might be willing to throw some business your way.”

The promise of his release hung sharp and bright behind his eyes. Quentin wasn’t even consciously aware of the moment when he dug his fingers into the fabric, reaching through to the hair underneath. The Hood made a muffled sound of surprise when he tightened down and held the younger man in place, but before he could do anything Quentin was the one fucking _him_ , his strokes hard and deep enough that he soon felt the vigilante’s throat spasm around the head of his cock, clamping tight and wet for a moment before releasing him so that he could pull back again.

It was enough. Quentin felt the tightening in his balls, a moment before he came – sobbing for breath, his skin showing sweat in the chill night air. The Hood grabbed onto his hips, pushing him back into the wall as he swallowed every bit of come Quentin had in him.

When the rush of endorphins finally began to fade, Quentin released the man at his feet. The Hood took his time before getting to his feet though; running his tongue gently over every inch of the detective’s softening cock. Quentin was shivering by the time he was finished, and some measure of sanity was starting to leach back into his brain.

“Enough,” he snapped, slapping away the gloved hands that would have re-dressed him. Even though he couldn’t see the Hood’s face, he could feel the bastard smiling as he rocked gracefully to his feet. “Go,” he continued, taking care of pulling his own clothes back into place. “I’ve had enough of you for tonight.” The chase wasn’t going to resume tonight, and Quentin wasn’t sure as he disappeared into the shadows which of them had come out on top this time.


End file.
